


Ô sweet rain

by whatthefuckamidoinghere



Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: 19th Century Setting, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, M/M, eliott is an artist, lucas is a little cosette, the story is in france
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-11-03 23:12:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17886914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatthefuckamidoinghere/pseuds/whatthefuckamidoinghere
Summary: Lucas lives a gray life, the rain being the rhythm to his existence. Young but already feeling old, he dreams of being free. Then one day arrives a stranger, enigmatic and graceful with a smile as bright as the sun.Maybe he is the colors to the young boy's life. Maybe he is the light that will make the rain stop.





	Ô sweet rain

**Author's Note:**

> i'm dropping this at the same time as the hell week for skam france fans, hope it would appease some sad minds lmao (i'm french and try to make this story as realistic as possible hehe)

 

 

 

 

It has been raining for six months now, watering the paths, flooding the tiny houses. The village was slowly transforming into a large swamp, brownish mud accumulated at the doors and staining the walls. The sky had not shown a single ray of sunshine, eternally gray until the moon rose and changed the depressing shades into its pitch black color.

His boots sank into the muddy road, dirt splashing around his feet as he walked down the small alley. He barely looked around himself, only focused on his steps, counting the distance separating him from the tavern. He could already hear the warm comments waiting for him there.

He passed by one of the only shop of their small town, looking at the glass of its windows covered in translucent drops of water as he turned at the corner. It was faster this way, avoiding the horses and crowd of people gathered in the main street. Jumping on a stoned low wall, he carefully hold his saddlebag against his wet jacket. He slid down the stairs and stooped under musty white bed sheets extended between the trees before entering the back door of the inn on the other side.

The boy closed the heavy wooden door behind him in a loud thud, the warmness of the place making him suppress a shiver. He exhaled slowly and rubbed his running nose, wiping the water off his face at the same time.

“Where were you huh?” he heard just as he took off his bag, completely drenched. “Don’t walk in here you’re gonna put dirty water everywhere!” a thundering voice roared at him.

The boy could only nod, a passive look on his face as the innkeeper pushed him to grab the soaked saddlebag. “Where did you loiter this time?”

“Where do you want me to go apart from the streets? There’s nothing around here, ah yes trees” the boy deadpanned, feeling the strong palm curling around his shirt, tugging violently.

“I don’t give you a place to sleep for this garbage” the man growled in his beard, eyes switching from the bag to the boy’s face “You are paid to bring people in here and clean the floor, not to lurk in rat holes all day” The boy stared at the repulsive man’s eyes, glowing with anger and scorn. His rotten teeth stood out from his dry lips, yellowish skin making his wrinkles crease on his chin. He had always watched with disgust the warts on the cheeks inflate when the man talked to him. It was quite ridiculous in a way, and he would laugh about it alone in the dark of the basement, in his 'bed' among the wine barrels at night.

The innkeeper and his wife had accepted his presence in their home as long as he was doing everything they said. It has been ten years that he moped the dusty floor, brought water from the well, cleaned the tables, the beds, the dishes. He didn’t wish for this life, he didn’t want to be trapped in an old inn till his death, treated like a slave and always on his own. There were no friends for him here, no children he could play with, no girls he could flatter. Everything was pale, from the constant fog in the air to the sticky brown soil, from the tired workers plowing barren lands to the constant sadness painted on kids’ faces. He wished he could flee from here, come across the forests and the rivers, free. Nothing retained him here, except the awfully low tip he received at the end of a generous day.

Well, he didn’t quite received it but the innkeeper didn’t need to know that.

“Do you understand what I’m saying or do you want me to slow down for your idiotic brain to catch up?” the rough voice called him back from his thoughts, the eyes he hated set on him.

“It won’t be necessary, _sir_ ” the boy spoke lowly, tone steady and almost ironic.

He saw a glimpse of wrath darkening the innkeeper’s features before the latter eased the grasp around his thin shirt.

“Lucas!” a hoarse feminine voice echoed from the upper room, the wooden floor squeaking on top of their heads. “Lucas you better come here right now!”

The boy hold himself from sighing in front of the other who gave him a contemptuous smirk, his stout body disappearing as he climbed up the stairs to the main room, joining his wife and the endless hubbub of clients.

Lucas stood in the middle, raindrops still dribbling from his clothes and hair. The young man took off his deep blue jacket and hanged it on the crackled wall before reaching for his bag that was laying on the cool floor, previously thrown by the innkeeper. With careful fingers, he opened the purse, taking a grayish stone out of it. He inspected it, hoping it hadn’t been damaged.

“Lucas!” he heard again. Rolling his eyes, said boy hid the stone inside his jacket and dropped the bag under it before leisurely heading toward the stairs.

The loud noise of women’s yells and men’s laughs instantly attacked his ears, just as much as the warm damp smell of sweaty bodies and rain attacked his nose. His gaze scanned the room, eyeing the farmer's and laborers bumping their beers, their hands secured around women's thick waist.

A cloth suddenly hit his temple, making him slightly jump as he struggled to catch it. “Stop staring would you and go do something useful of your life” Mrs Dubois, the innkeeper’s wife, retorted through gritted teeth. Lucas watched her waddle among the seated clients, huge beers on a plate resting on her large palm.

That was a typical night here, the tavern filled with villagers, half of them drunk and who didn't even notice the hands sneaking in their pockets to extricate the coins there. Lucas could almost see the details on people's faces, drool sliding from the corner of their mouth, the pale yellow shade of their skin and greasy hair matching their unclean shirts and trousers stained with alcohol and dirt. He was used to it by now.

Lucas was certainly the youngest of the room, in a place where children where forbidden. Despite reaching his twenties, his boyish features made him stood out from the crowd. With his wide blue eyes, bulging cheekbones, long nose and thin rosy lips, he was sometimes mistaken for somebody 'working' here. On the other hand he was most of the time ignored by the customers who almost stepped on him when he was cleaning the area.

After spending an hour scrubbing the floor, the young man heard the annoying voice of the innkeeper ordering him to bring water. Lucas passed bruised fingers through chestnut locks, clearing his forehead and eyes. He could feel sweat accumulated between his blade bones and brows. He was kind of relieved to have to go outside, a little bit of fresh air wouldn't hurt.

Without a word, Lucas sprinted toward the back door, taking his jacket at the same time. But the young man put it back when he realized with a sigh it was still wet from the rain. Grabbing the bucket, Lucas escaped from the unbearable warmth of the place to finally breathe the air of the night. There wasn't any source of light despite the weak gleam of the streetlight, illuminating the cobbles of the street. Lucas could hear the faint brouhaha coming from the tavern as he walked away, his small frame moving in an empty landscape.

He eventually reached the well after crossing the whole town, feet sore from all the walking. Lucas began to regret not taking something to cover himself other than the light crimson waistcoat on his large shirt. The weather had calmed down since, only a thin curtain of rain pouring silently. The brown haired boy looked up, tying the bucket to the well's rope before lowering it inside. With shaky arms, Lucas hold onto the rope scorching his skin and pulled it progressively until he could take out the bucket carefully, full of icy water.

It was silent, no screams, no insults, no complains, just him and the hoot of the owl in the night. The young man liked nights like these, where he was far from all he hated. Taking a deep breath, he brought the bucket against his chest and try not to think about the frozen surface soaking the fabric of his shirt. Just as he was about to turn back something caught his eye. Despite the dark surroundings, the young man thought he had seen something shift behind the well.

“Is there somebody here?” he found himself asking, brows furrowing as he took a step closer.

Lucas couldn't see anything at first but he only had to tilt his head higher to see a silhouette seated against a low wall, legs resting on the wet floor. It would be a lie if he said he wasn't startled when his eyes landed on the figure facing him.

“Oh... hum” the young man muttered when he noticed the figure didn't flinch. Maybe it was not the greatest idea to talk to someone in the middle of the night in a place where nobody could come across. Lucas took several steps back, keeping in mind that is was wiser to go back in town.

“Hi” an unknown voice called for him as he was fleeing like a thief. It was bright and clear, the voice of someone, a man.

The boy turned on his heels, eyes searching for the person who jumped from its hideout.

“Do you live here?” The stranger asked, approaching slowly with the sound of his boots clicking on the pavement.

“Huh... here no... but further in the town's center yes” Lucas answered calmly, analyzing the other from head to toe. But he couldn't see well, the lightning being so low he couldn't distinguish the man's features. “Who are you?”

The stranger stood at a reasonable distance an readjusted his coat “I am just passing by, I don't really know this place” he said. Lucas could say he was quite young. “I'm lucky I found you though!” the man smiled after an awkward silence.

“Huh I- well I'm not sure I can help you” the brown haired boy responded, skeptical. He suddenly remembered the bucket in his arms. “I'm heading to town, maybe you can follow me you'll find somewhere to sleep there” Lucas quickly stated and began to walk again.

“Ah yes thank you very much” and the stranger followed him, walking by his side.

 

 

“So... where do you come from?” Lucas tried to initiate a conversation despite being the worst interlocutor ever. It was better than to walk in a complete silence with the other, who strongly seemed to appreciate his intention to talk anyway.

“I come from a city in the south, have you heard of Montpelier?”

The boy huffed “Of course I do I'm not uncultivated”, an answer that made the young stranger chuckle, easing the previous weird atmosphere.

“I never said that!” Lucas shared a tiny smile, arms becoming heavy with the weight of the filled bucket

“What brings you here then?”

“Huh, I must admit I don't quite know where we are? Particularly at night, my sense of direction is just like the sun here...” Lucas' face translated confusion. “... absent”

With a quiet laugh, the boy kept walking “We're in Moulins. Hope it rings a bell” he spoke. He didn't usually like to talk, especially small talks like this one. However the stranger seemed comfortable and on top of it all, lost but didn't looked like he cared.

At his words, the man flashed a bright smile, perfectly aligned teeth showing “Perfect I didn't deviate from the road!”

“What road?” Lucas found himself asking.

“I'm heading to Paris” the other responded to Lucas' surprise.

“Really?” the boy immediately exclaimed “You're traveling all the way from Montpelier to Paris?”

“Yes! I wanted some change, to go and see the great french capital with my own two eyes” the man grinned, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

“And you're traveling alone?” There was a slight cold breeze in the night as the two men reached the city center, the metallic bucket bruising Lucas' hands more than they already were.

“I do, yes” the stranger simply answered, without anything else. There was much less enthusiasm in his voice than earlier, making Lucas gaze at the other.

The sudden noise of glass breaking against the pavement made him jump, the bucket almost escaping his skinny arms. The inn.

Lucas cleared his throat before facing the other man, both stopping in their tracks. “Hum... I live here so...”

“You live here?” the man questioned with raised eyebrows.

“Yes, and I work here”

“Which justifies the fact that you're holding a bucket full of water” they both chuckled. “I'll leave you here then...” the man smiled and Lucas could actually see him now, with the artificial golden light above them.

And the boy felt his breath stuck in his throat for a second at a sight he clearly didn't expect.

The stranger was indeed a young man, much taller than him with broad shoulders and slim body. The deep red of his coat contrasted with the white of his shirt and beige waistcoat, dark pants perfectly hugging his long legs. His appearance was uncommon from the people Lucas used to see, neat and elegant. But his face was something else. His face showed a pair of crystal blue almond eyes that seemed to smile on their own with such long lashes they certainly touched his cheeks. Then followed a perfect straight nose leading to the most beautifully sculpted lips Lucas has ever seen. His features were rectangular-shaped with a jawline as sharp as a knife and dark brown eyebrows. His forehead was covered by a mass of messy light brown locks, curling above his fascinating eyes, and looking extremely soft as pearls of rain shined in his hair. His face seemed to have been created by god, or delicately painted by the most talented artist in the world. There was an harmony in his features that was soothing and breathtaking, and Lucas wondered if it was possible for a man to be this magnificent.

“... Lucas” the boy muttered “I- I... ehm... my name is Lucas” he cursed himself for stammering like a child.

The stranger smiled again, this time with a knowing look on his face “I'm Eliott. Eliott Demaury” he said before taking a step back, eyes never leaving Lucas' ones. “I'm planning on staying here till sunrise. You know where to find me”

And just like that he was gone, Lucas watching him walk in the empty street.

What a strange encounter, the boy thought as he stood there like a statue. He recollected himself and took a better grasp at the bucket in his arms to not let it slip. He suddenly turned his head toward the spot where the other man was standing a minute ago, pursing his lips.

He, in fact, didn't know where to find him.

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> (english is not my first language so i hope there isnt too many mistakes)  
> so this is quite inspired by victor hugo's les misérables and its atmosphere. i decided to write smth for this pairing, i really appreciate the french remake so i thought... why not write an au like always :) hope you'll enjoy
> 
> idk if i should continue this? you can always give your opinion in the comments, they're always welcomed   
> thank you for reading!


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